《Sprig》1.2 Germ
Advertisement
7 years later…
“Welcome to the new land of Daegal!”
The captain’s voice was barely audible over all the chatter. He let out a hearty chuckle. “Now get off my boat, ya filthy lot.” At his command, Humans began shuffling down the gangplank and onto the docks.
I hung back with my hood up, staying behind while the crowd of Humans dissipated. I kept a small sack over one shoulder while Chipry sat on the other. I looked over at him.
“We made it, Chirpry,” I said. The colorful tropical bird made a trill chirping noise. “Maybe we’ll find you some new friends after all.”
The captain yelled out once again. “Everybody off! No getting cold feet on me!” He directed his gaze at the stragglers, me included. He laughed again and snorted. “I’ve put up with all of you for long enough.”
I made my way to the end of the line, shuffling down the gangplank. The salty air of the ocean was something I was happy to leave behind. After I reached the dock I made my way through the crowd of Humans. I could see the colony past the shore. The supposed attempt at working together. Yeah. Good luck, I thought to myself.
“Move aside!” said a burly man in a tight shirt as he carried a large chest over his shoulder. I stepped out of the way in time to avoid him walking into me.
The dock bustled with Humans shuffling to shore. I squeezed to one side of the dock to get a better view of my surroundings. On the next dock over was a ship of similar size to ours but of a noticeably different style. Where the one I had ridden on was practical, the other ship was ornate, the hull made of dark, delicate wood. It was pristine and looked as if it was almost untouched by the waves. All the railings and edges were coated with yellow shimmering paint while the rest of the boat was dark charcoal. Where our ship had straight lines, theirs had curves and spirals. Their large yellow sails were stylized with paintings of storm clouds, with bolts of lightning striking downward in an arc.
It was the Elves. People crowded their dock as well, most of which were tall and slender. As far as I could tell from the distance, they all had pointed ears too.
As I watched, I felt that some of the paint on my skin had rubbed off my hand and onto the pole I was holding myself up with. It had been on for about a week, so I wasn’t surprised. I covered the mark with my hand and checked to make sure no one was looking. I pushed off the pole and ducked back into the crowd.
Advertisement
I’m sure I’ll see the Elves soon enough anyway. Now, it’s time to find some fresh water, I thought. I was parched due to the dwindling supply of fresh water on our boat and the caution I had to use around Humans.
I reached the end of the dock and followed the other arrivals up the beach to the entrance of the colony. A tall palisade of rough-hewn logs stood before us. I could make out two people standing up top, armed with bows. They weren’t particularly interested in any of us.
Facing the docks were two large wooden doors, providing passage for the weary travelers into their new home. Some of the veteran colonists, standing by the entrance, were pointing the way and answering questions for the more vocal Humans. I kept my eyes down. They were all Human as well.
The veterans guided the groups into a part of town that was devoid of buildings. Instead, a sea of tents awaited us, aligned in winding rows, separated by muddy, uneven walkways.
As we walked, I kept my head down to keep from sticking out, but I still snuck glances at the residents of the encampment. We passed a group of Saurians, eight-foot-tall lizardfolk, covered in scales and wearing crude bone weapons on their sides. They were outside their dome-shaped tents cooking over a fire. The aroma of roasted fish penetrated my nostrils.
Next, we passed a series of smaller huts that seemed a bit silly in their whimsy. With the irregular shapes of each hut, they looked more likely to fold in on themselves than stand upright. Two half-sized folk walked out of one of the huts and watched us as we passed. Gnomes. One may have winked at me, but I wasn’t sure. I broke eye contact and ducked away, finding myself on the other side of the crowd.
There, I saw short tents lacking all the whimsy I’d seen from the Gnomes. They were a basic A-frame of sticks with canvas draped over the top. They surprisingly looked more unstable than the Gnomes’ huts. Two half-folk men with stocky builds and thick beards fumbled as they attempted to stand up their own crude shelter.
I guess the Dwarves don’t go camping much, I thought.
We passed the Beastfolk last. Their shelters could barely be called shelters. They only consisted of a single canvas with a few poles to form a portable lean-to-like structure. The Beastfolk themselves were hard to look at. They all walked on two legs and were about the same height as Humans, but they looked like animals. One had a face resembling a wild boar, tusks and all. Another looked like a wolf with sharp teeth, and a third had the head of a cow, the pattern of black spots on white fur running across her body. They glared at us as we passed, never turning their backs away.
Advertisement
We reached the end of our racial tour of Daegal at an open part of the field, still within the palisade. The Humans I came with began assembling their own tents. Canvas and long poles turned into rows of tents tall enough to allow a Human to stand up straight. The veterans informed us that we would all need to meet at the town square before dusk to learn the rules of the colony. Then, they left us to set up.
I didn’t have a tent with me. In fact, all I had was a small backpack with a hammock, a few rations, a knife, and some seed to feed Chipry. I needed water. I was too thirsty to be concerned about preparing a place to sleep.
With everyone focused on claiming their plots, I made my way toward a row of buildings overlooking the tent city from a hill. I kept my head down as I walked so that my face would be covered in shadow. Chipry chattered on my shoulder.
From the top of the hill, I looked down at the sea of tents and found two more sections that I had not walked through. At the end with the Humans, further from where I stood, was another race setting up. The only detail I could make out from where I stood was the charcoal grey color of their tents. It was probably the Elves. Near the other end, closer to the gate we entered through, there was one more set of tents that looked different than the rest. The Avians maybe? I thought.
I shrugged and headed for the town square. It was already starting to fill in with people. Clusters formed throughout, each race sticking with their own.
My eyes widened as I spotted a well in the middle of the open courtyard. I hurried to it, drew the bucket, and drank the water from my cupped hands. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was until I had the chance to drink as much as I wanted. As I tipped my head back a third time to sip the water from my hands, my hood flew off. I choked and spit out water in surprise. I tried to pull my hood back up, but it was being held down. I turned to face whoever was holding it and found a large Beastfolk scowling above me.
“We’re harboring Treeks here too?” she said.
We’re going to do this already? I just got here, I thought.
She resembled something like a bobcat, with golden tan fur over her whole body, covered with black stripes and spots throughout. Black fur lined the tops of her ears and came to a point. Across her face was a raw gash, still healing. As she held me down she kept her free hand behind her back.
I looked around, trying to determine how she found me out and discovered a white puddle forming on the packed earth of the town square. Flecks of paint swirled about. I inspected my arms and found that the water had washed the paint from them. It was no doubt missing from the lower part of my face as well.
Gasps echoed through the square as people of all different races saw me. Not one of them was a Treek, like me.
“Scum like you were supposed to be killed off!” the Beastfolk woman said. Her words seethed with anger.
My eyes went wide. I raised my clean hands as a sign of peace and tried to back away.
“You don’t get to walk away from this,” she said.
At that, she began to transform. She rocked forward and landed with her hands on the ground as her muscles grew and her limbs realigned. Her fur darkened to black and orange as she unleashed a thunderous growl. I stood five and a half feet short in the middle of the town square, staring down a massive tiger. She roared, then spoke with jungle cat vocal cords, causing a thick purr to corrupt her words. “You’re a monster!”
Advertisement
- In Serial497 Chapters
The True Endgame
What defines endgame content? Is it raiding epic dungeons to take down the strongest bosses there are, or is it facing off against other players to climb the ladder and become the top PvPer? Is endgame content gathering materials and crafting the strongest and most exotic equipment that there is, or is it all about playing the market and amassing more wealth than everybody else? Some people even argue that fashion and minigames are endgame content! Ryouta has already done all of that. Having spent most of his life playing MMO after MMO, he now finds himself wanting to live a virtual life that is far more relaxed and casual than what he is known for. To Ryouta, the true endgame is fishing. Cover illustrated by KoeHaru1!
8 263 - In Serial47 Chapters
A Standard Model of Magic
The world ended, and magic came back. The part our parents didn't expect, was for Science to break on reentry. Twenty years after the apocalypse, with our nations dismantled and hidden continents unearthed, a new generation has grown up in the wreckage of 21st century civilization. For us, the fantastic is at our doorstep and we have had no choice but to fight back. Meanwhile, the laws of nature bend and break at the whims of immortal gods, all of which are now dead and none of which are content to stay that way. But we cannot afford to give up. We are the stewards of a rewritten century, in which a little luck and a whole lot of magic might make anything possible – maybe even a world better than the one we lost. A Standard Model of Magic is a complete overhaul of my old story A Storm in the Fall. I'm afraid I was unhappy with the LitRPG elements, which I don't mind reading, but I apparently loath writing. Sorry. Once I'd made the choice to decouple the story from the OF that inspired it and reconfigure the magic system to my satisfaction, little of the original plotline survived. I will be salvaging most of my original characters, and I will keep some elements which are endemic to the genre, but that is all. I don't have an update schedule which I can commit to yet, but I will try to maintain a weekly pace.(This is currently RoyalRoad exclusive, since I'm lazy. If you find it posted elsewhere, it wasn't me and it wasn't with permission) If you're interested, I've set up a discord.
8 222 - In Serial8 Chapters
Freedom : shadow of sins
There's a game going around Japan called "Freedom". The premise of the game is that all of the players are sinners that commit a sin in the past and they have to, kill each other in order to gain their freedom and be cleansed their sins. Witness the thrilling story of sakuzaki and his friends to survive the death game before everyone meets a very unpleasant end
8 103 - In Serial26 Chapters
A Stupid Hot Head-Natsu Dragneel fanfiction
Lucy Heartfillia is the type of girl that people don't notice. She likes it that way. She had her friends and didn't get unwanted attention. But one day when the playboy jock, Natsu Dragneel, makes a bet with her. She doesn't pay much attention to it but Natsu makes sure she does. He starts to hang around her like crazy. What happens when Lucy finds out Natsu might not be all bad?
8 93 - In Serial19 Chapters
The Broken House
Life for 9 1/2 year old Nadine Clark is bleak. Influenza took her dad away. Now, after being deserted by her mom, she hides herself in her family's broken house. Nadine thought that she can't trust anyone. Until...
8 102 - In Serial48 Chapters
Falling For A Man Of The City
He stood up momentarily discarding his shirt, eliciting a small moan from me at the sight of his physique. His body would always take my breath away at the black ink and scars littered holding a story of their own. When my eyes moved down past his pectoral muscles to his pants I felt my breath hitch in my throat at the view of his manhood straining against the fabric. If I didn't feel shy with the way he was admiring me, I certainly felt shy when he reached out to remove my underwear. It was the first time I had ever allowed anyone to see a part of my body that I had been taught to guard fiercely so it was only natural that I look away feeling self-conscious. Considering I wasn't making any effort to hide it, he chuckled lightly making me blush when he went further to spread my thighs gently unveiling the secret that I had been yearning for him to see. "You have such a pretty pussy," were the words that came out as more of a growl. Turning to look at him, I found his eyes already watching me causing my chest to constrict in sweet agony, "I'm going to enjoy eating you, my little gazelle," he cooed gently falling to his knees in a prayer like motion. Only this form of prayer was far beyond holy but aimed to please and was sacred in its own way... ***When Aaliyah Winston waltzed into the city of New York in search of a new life, unexpectedly she is thrust into a world. She gains more than she bargained for once she catches the eye of the leader of the Mafia. Drenched in decadence and an allure that has her throwing all caution aside, he proves to be more than meets the eye. As they indulge in an attraction so powerful and addictive surpassing that of any drug it's in their aim for love, when family secrets and lies are exposed. It's quite a risk to allow a man like him into her bed. Yet the true test of whether they'll survive lies if she can accept hands that have been painted in blood holding her heart.
8 387

